


Waterloo Sunset

by kurth_naga



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, I cried writing this, The angst comes later, its cute and then the entire world is just shattered
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 04:29:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18461516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurth_naga/pseuds/kurth_naga
Summary: You've almost finished your time at Imperial College with Brian as your boyfriend for the past three years, but you've just taken up a PhD position in America - and there’s bound to be some changes in the air as the relationship turns long-distance. But change isn’t always permanent, and history might start repeating itself when you return to London.





	Waterloo Sunset

**21st February 1968**

“Alright, that’s it for today. Make sure you all pick up the cosmology assignment sheet on your way out, please, I don’t want a repeat of last time.” Your lecturer’s final call awoke you from your brief stupor, pulling you back to Earth. “Hmm? What?” You sleepily exhaled, and before long, a familiar hand was on your shoulder. Brian, your boyfriend, had been sitting next to you the entire lecture, trying to keep you awake with the odd poke to the leg - to completely no avail. “Cosmology assignment sheet,” he said, picking his bag up from the floor underneath his seat, “You should probably get one this time.” His guitar sat in the chair on the other side of him in its case, and he slung it over his shoulder.  
“Oh yeah… yeah, I should. Thanks.” His free hand slowly moved down your arm to take hold of your hand, pulling you out of your seat on the cold, wooden lecture room chair. A few years ago, your clandestine displays of affection towards one another would surely have gone noticed by the other students, but it had been almost three years since you got together, so nobody bat an eyelid over it anymore. Besides, you couldn’t have cared less. You loved holding his hands, interlocking his impossibly long and slender fingers with yours, watching as he smiled at you every time. “You need a nap, missy.” He said, leading you out along the rows of seats and down to the front. You were the last to leave, and the lecturer was still wiping the chalk from the blackboard, so you quickly grabbed two sheets and hoped you would be quick enough to avoid a scathing remark from him about your consistent forgetfulness. You stuffed one into your bag and the other into Brian’s hand that wasn’t still holding yours. “I’m not going home yet, we’re off to the park, remember?” You said, closing the lecture theatre doors behind you on your way out. Your weekly ‘dates’ had been going on for a while now, and every time Brian would bring his guitar. His hand gently squeezed yours, and you felt a warmth flow up through your arm. “I mean I didn’t forget, I have this thing with me.” He beckoned to the guitar, affectionately dubbed the 'Red Special’ for its unique colouring, hung over his back.

It was just a shame you had that…  _thing_  you needed to discuss with him.

You laughed as you exited the huge wooden double doors of the Imperial College Physics department, feeling a cool winter breeze passing by, blowing through the still-bare trees lining the road. It was a surprisingly sunny day for mid-February, a warm snap had hit for the last few days and you’d taken advantage of it together, sitting out in Brian’s back garden at home with his parents and listening to his extensive record collection as his mother crushed lemons into lemonade and you lay on the blanket in the sunshine. That same blanket was tucked inside your boyfriend’s bag now, ready for your own, more private weekly date away from the constantly-scrutinizing eyes of Brian’s father. You crossed over the road and entered Hyde Park through the wrought-iron gates, passing by the Royal Albert Hall and heading for the river. Brian’s band, Smile, was due to play there this time next year. You couldn’t have been more proud. The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon. “Are you okay, [Y/N]? Not cold or anything?” Brian asked, putting his arm around your shoulders and letting you catch his hand on the other side, intertwining your fingers. “Yeah, I’m alright… usual place?” Your regular spot was down by the Serpentine river, where benches lined the waterside underneath the trees and the boats floated gently downstream. Sometimes you might treat yourselves to a coffee at the Lido cafe, but it was usually closed by the time your evening lectures had finished, so this time you had made a flask of tea instead. You hoped it wouldn’t have gone cold by the time you made it down there. And you hoped you’d have the courage to tell him what needed to be said.

Brian spread the blanket out over the bench down by the waterfront, and set about unpacking his guitar from the case, fiddling with the tuning pegs. A small flock of starlings flew over your heads, forming dark and silky waves in the purple and gold sky like a web, and you both looked up to watch. You knew how much Brian loved animals; the care he took of his own cat, Squeaky, spoke enough to that. You’d come over to his many times to find Squeaky draped over his shoulders when he opened the door, or curled up next to him on the footstool as she had apparently done for the past fourteen years. “Amazing how they do that,” He mused aloud, picking at the guitar strings and smiling softly. You had always loved his smile so much, and every time you heard Tim or Roger mention the band it reminded you of it even more when Brian wasn’t around. “Want some tea?” You asked, pulling the flask and two plastic cups out of your bag. “Yeah, got any sugar?”  
“Brian, you don’t have sugar in tea.”  
“I meant from  _you_.” His smile cheekily turned lopsided, and you playfully whacked him on the arm. He leaned over and kissed you on the cheek, and went back to his plucking as you poured two cups and set his down on the bench. “That was really cheesy, you know that, right?” You said, warming your hands on the cup and taking a first tentative sip of the steaming liquid, almost burning your tongue. “Absolutely. Been working on a cover of something, wanna hear it?” The flat of his palm gently hit the red wood of the guitar, and he raised his eyebrows at you. He didn’t even have to ask. “Oh alright, I suppose I’ll listen to you play…” You drawled sarcastically, sharing a brief laugh before the first few acoustic notes emanated from the Old Lady - a familiar riff that you were sure you’d heard before on one of his records. You sat cross-legged on the bench and opened your ears to his melody.

_“Dirty old river, must you keep rolling, flowing into the night.”_

The leaves that had fallen onto the river’s surface seemed to swirl around in whirlpool patterns as you looked out over the water.

_“People so busy, make me feel dizzy, taxi light shine so bright.”_

You were always surprised that Tim often took center stage when it came to singing, but you knew Brian still lacked the confidence to let his voice out any further than backing vocals when it came to it, choosing instead to let his guitar sing for him. Which was a damn shame, you thought, because his voice had such a nice quality.

_“But I don’t need no friends. As long as I gaze on Waterloo sunset, I am in paradise.”_

A final few strummings of Brian’s guitar rang out as the sunlight suddenly broke through the clouds on the horizon, bathing everything in a warm glow and illuminating his shape from behind. You were fairly sure at this point that you couldn’t possibly have been more in love. You laughed and applauded him as a couple walked past you, giving a glance and a soft smile your way. “Thank you, thank you…” He took a few exaggerated mock bows, grinning widely, and set the guitar down on top of the case at his feet. “That’s all I’ve got at the moment. I don’t think Tim and Roger will let us do it next year, though, they want to do our own stuff.”  
“Screw that, you should do it. It sounds amazing, and that was about ten seconds long.”  
“Anyway, I feel like that should be our song, just between us, you know? Cos it’s true.” He suddenly looked extremely sheepish, and preoccupied himself with taking a drink from his own cup. “What’s true?”  
“Well, you know, when I’m with you it’s like… paradise and all. Christ, that was cheesy, wasn’t it?” He buried his face in his hands, turning the colour of beetroots, but you took hold of his wrists and pulled them away to see him properly. No more words needed to be said as you softly kissed him, holding on for just a bit longer to let his thumb meet your cheek. You pulled away but kept your face close.

“Alright then, that’s our song.”

You kissed his nose and sat back on the bench, looking towards the sunset in the distance through the bare trees and over the bridge. Brian put his arm around your shoulders and held you close to him, wrapping the blanket around you both and taking a final sip of his tea.

“I wanna stay here with you forever.” He said softly, and you felt his hand move on your upper arm.

A painful tightening in your chest took hold when you remembered what you had to do.

“Brian, there’s… something I should tell you.” His grip around your shoulders loosened, and he gave you a puzzled look, knowing that whatever he was about to hear should surely be taken seriously from the tone of your voice alone. “What’s up?”  
“You know how I was talking to those people in America about the doctorate position, in Washington?”  
“Yeah, I know. You said you hadn’t heard from them yet.”

You swallowed the lump that was forming in your throat and tried not to cry.

“Well… I got the offer.”

Brian’s facial expression turned from one of mild concern to proud, and he pulled you close as he smiled widely. “That’s amazing, I knew you’d do it.” There was just one problem.  
“I’m leaving next year, after the Masters is done. So I don’t… I don’t know when I’ll see you again, after next September.” And again, his face changed and his hold on you loosened again, back to that worried look that you really wish you hadn’t been the cause of.  
“I mean, you’ll come home, right? You’ll come and visit, and I’ll come and see you.” You knew that couldn’t happen. Moving to America for possibly up to five years was an investment you hoped wouldn’t be quite so huge, and at times you wondered if there was some secret force that had conspired to make you give up your time with Brian to pursue the thing you’d always dreamed of. Maybe in another life it wouldn’t have had to be that way. “The travel is so expensive, I’m thin on the ground as it is with the degree and all, I don’t know how Dad’s managing to keep up and the shop job barely covers me for anything… so I think, once I get out there, I’ll be there for the whole time.”  
“Even Christmas?”  
“Even Christmas.”

You swore you could see the first formations of a tear in his eye, which you wiped away with your thumb as you kept your hand on his cheek.

“I’ll write, and I’ll call, and it’ll be like nothing ever changed,” he said, “I promise.”

As the last rays of sunshine vanished below the horizon, you leaned in closer and whispered the words that had been your mantra for so long, and you knew would continue to be until the words themselves burned out like the stars and the sunset.

“I love you.”


End file.
